Tuesday, August 31, 2010

I am dating a guy I broke up with many months ago. I am going back on all of my determined made-up-mind promises to myself that he was bad bad bad.

I'm not into this relationship the way I allowed myself to be into it the first time. I am detached. Last time, I wanted him to sleep beside me. I don't now. I think he will not stand for this much longer, and I will lose the relationship (or he will lose me - it's a matter of perspective I suppose) and I don't know what to think or feel about that.

When our relationship was new... I was open to the possibility that this might be the "one." I thought that it might be a gift from God that I would not suffer in lonely widowhood for very long. My children were so young! They would easily transition to truly love and respect a step-dad. My luck was bound to turn upward after going through such a horrendous loss. So... I slowly warmed up to the idea of having a boyfriend and started calling John that. My family was surprised that I brought over a new man so soon after Mike's death... but they were supportive if I was happy.

John was wonderful to get to know. He was funny and very loving. But after an initial honeymoon phase that was (in my opinion) way too short... he began to seem to make demands on my time and attention as if he were my husband. He began to force his way into assuming the role of "king of the castle." He was offended when I made some decisions on my own without consulting him. One of the first major blow-ups occurred when I bought the cemetery plot next to my husband's. He told me in no uncertain terms that it was very offensive to him that I would buy that plot.

Fast forward through many more arguments and pissing each other off... I break up with him... he lingers for a few months... finally it breaks off entirely... we don't talk for 8 months... then "Hello again" this July and here I am now...

I prefer to be alone in my bed at night rather than have him there. I have never in my adult life preferred to sleep alone rather than with a man. I haven't been with a LOT of men, 4 before my husband... 3 who were long-term...

This aversion I am feeling to having a man in my bed is NOT normal. Never in my adult life have I slept alone when I had a man in my life. From 18 until I was widowed I doubt that I ever was alone in bed for more than 6 weeks in a row.

Now...

My memory is foggy, blurry, black and white. I'm not sure if I was capable of judging John's character given that I was intensely grieving my husband's recent death. I was only 4 months into widowhood when I met him. What I liked about John right off the bat: he smiled at me in such a NORMAL way. Even though he knew I was a single mom, young widow, recently bereaved... he still treated me normally and even flirted with me the very first day we met.

I could sit here an enumerate the several things that pissed me off, the unforgivables... but they are very colored by my perspective.

It would be dishonest to claim that I was not in the wrong on at least several of our arguments. I have no such list. I didn't journal about "John round 1" when we were together the first time.

SO I am giving this a chance. I don't think I am incredibly open to it though. I have a hard time exposing myself to the possibility of being hurt severely. I cannot allow myself to love a man who I don't trust to not trample me. I cannot let go of my confused memory that tells me he was wrong for me before, this is only a diversion now.

I like the way Elaine lights up when she sees him. Elliott needs the male role model in his life... and if it isn't going to be John, I am setting them up for more loss when he goes. I'm not sure he is the man I want Elliott to emulate... or for Elaine to love in a Freudian way.

About Me

In December, 2008, following an intensive horrible case of pneumonia, my husband, my lover, my best friend died. He left me with two beautiful preschool age children. I'm just learning to catch my balance, trying not to stumble... and finding there are many unexpected bright and sunny patches I could never have imagined from the dark and thorny entrance to this life-path I did not choose.